Thoughts of a Common Man

“What’s for Dinner?”

noreply@blogger.com (Cliff Fazzolari) — Thu, 11 Jun 2026 09:54:00 +0000

It’s truly an every day question that’s aggravating.

It’s worse in the summer months when the thought of turning on the oven after being out in the sun is kinda’ pathetic.

“We ordering something?” Kathy asked.

“I guess.”

“A sub? Hot dogs? Pizza?”

“I’d do Chinese,” I finally said, knowing full well she didn’t want Chinese.

“Order yours,” she said. “Me and Sam will get something. What time we eating?”

“‘Ten Minute’ is what they’ll say when I call,” I said.

I ordered all my favorites, and got an extra egg roll for some reason.

Ended the question for a day, anyway, but ‘what’s for dinner?’ will rear its ugly head again tomorrow.

One of the best things we did was assign a couple of meals to a couple of nights.

Wednesday is pasta for me. It was pizza night for everyone else.

On Sunday, I make pasta.

So, we’re down to five nights.

“How about breakfast for dinner?” Is tossed my way once in a while, and suddenly I’m a short order cook.

When I lived with my Dad on the road, dinner was never a question.

We had steak, followed by pasta, followed by steak, followed by pasta…

…days of the week didn’t matter, and he was such a great cook that the pasta sauce changed to whatever we could think of.

But, the days of extravagant dinners are mostly behind us, as there are nights when Kathy eats a bowl of cereal and doesn’t want anything.

Which is fine with me.

“Ten minute.”

That’s the only time I need.

Thunderous Applause

noreply@blogger.com (Cliff Fazzolari) — Wed, 10 Jun 2026 09:02:00 +0000

We have to further discuss the presidential visit to the NBA Finals as we now know the facts so they can be preserved for all of history.

First off, a funky aspect of it all is that New Yorkers are currently walking around New York City burning sage to get rid of the evil.

For the uninitiated, they flashed pedo pig on the screen during the national anthem.

That was by design.

They didn’t think the boos would rain down during the anthem. They believed that would be unpatriotic, but we are way past that.

And they don’t know New Yorkers.

The boos were loud.

They were louder at the watch parties everywhere people were gathered.

How would the cult respond?

First, Fox News manipulated the tape - mixed some cheers in and eliminated some of the booing.

A reporter was to afraid to frame the question any other way than ‘What did you thing of the reception you got?’

That lined him up perfectly fly to do the thing he loves best:

Lie.

“Amazing. Mostly cheers.”

Now, it may seem trivial to some, but it’s the sort of lie that’s told in nations where people lose their voices.

Think North Korea.

A portion of the country is just fine with being lied to.

The degree of the lie isn’t important.

The acceptance of the lie is the horrific part.

“People will treat you the way you allow them to treat you.”

If someone lied to you, continually in your personal life, would you let them?

It wasn’t amazing.

It wasn’t mostly cheers.

He was horrifically booed.

Come here.

I’ll tell you the truth.

Me, Me, Me, Me, Me

noreply@blogger.com (Cliff Fazzolari) — Tue, 09 Jun 2026 10:00:00 +0000

The New York Knicks being in the NBA Finals is such a feel good story.

A moment that is good for the escape of the shit show the country has become.

So, how do we turn the feel good story into a divisive, garbage night where everyone was excited to be at a watch party.

Mr. Me, Me, Me, Me decided to go to a game that no one wanted him.

The watch parties were canceled because of the security required.

So much for needing the security of a huge ballroom, right?

It did allow us to fantasize about the reaction that he would get.

New York absolutely hates him because they’ve known he’s a criminal for decades.

The mindset is what fascinates me.

If you were well aware that the majority of people hate you, wouldn’t you lay low?

But check the gall of the man as he spoke to the young reporter.

Sitting a foot from her he called her crooked or stupid because she asked what evidence he had for saying the 2020 election was stolen.

(It wasn’t).

(He has zero evidence).

(He was laughed out of court).

But, Mr. Me, Me, Me, Me had no shame because he doesn’t have any human decency.

New York let him know.

250 Year Celebration

noreply@blogger.com (Cliff Fazzolari) — Mon, 08 Jun 2026 09:20:00 +0000

Images of the Bi-centennial celebration flash through my mind.

I distinctly recall the parade through town, and the men marching in uniform.

We had balloons and floats and waving flags.

We watched the fireworks at the town park, and as a 11-year old, I distinctly recall being undeniably proud to be an American.

A lot has changed in 50 years.

First off, I learned about life and how it works. As a kid, you don’t see a lot of the rough edges.

As a kid, you don’t have any idea who has money and who doesn’t.

You don’t know who is having troubles at home, or who is sick.

Back then we had a lot of people looking over us. Our friend’s parents knew us and they’d discipline us or feed us.

Now, as adults, we know all the deep, dark secrets. We understand that there are people in power taking advantage of us.

We don’t have healthcare for all.

We have way too many poor and homeless.

Our education system is in tatters.

We aren’t being led out of the mess.

We are being dragged into the abyss.

But we still have American spirit, don’t we?

Certainly a portion of the population enjoys the freedom that Democracy is supposed to afford us, but not all of us.

Not nearly all of us.

And when I was 11 years old I didn’t know that it sucks, and it’s not good enough.

I still love this country.

I’ve seen a lot of it.

From California to New York City, and all points in between.

It’s a beautiful place filled with hard-working people who just want to live a peaceful, happy life.

I had a great Sunday.

I played golf, saw the Yankees win, and the sauce was great. I rested a little, hung out with the family and my faithful dog.

A day that I’d script.

And I thought about the 250-year celebration, and how it promises to be absolutely nothing that I’m interested in celebrating.

The White House is in shambles.

We are at war.

The president attacks reporters, ‘dumocrats’ (did anyone know there is a ‘b’ in dumb - pretty heady stuff there).

Immigrants aren’t welcome.

Minorities are treated as other than people.

Gays are treated like villains.

250 years of freedom is hard to celebrate when you realize that we’re headed backwards, and that America may not make it to 300 years.

It’s my last chance to celebrate, and I won’t be attending.

Hurt My Heart

noreply@blogger.com (Cliff Fazzolari) — Sun, 07 Jun 2026 07:26:00 +0000

I visited Mom on Saturday afternoon, and we chatted a little bit, and watched a funny episode of Roseanne (John Goodman is great).

I mentioned that the Knicks were going to win the championship, and how we watched them together in 1973. She loved that team - especially with Jerry Lucas who was a genius.

She asked:

“What sport is that?”

So, her memory isn’t great, but I knew how to get it going. I put on Sinatra.

“Strangers in the Night”

She watched the video. Her leg moving to the music. Her eyes full of tears.

She sang every word.

I thought about taping it, but she was watching the video on my phone.

Then she looked up.

“He’s dead, right?”

I nodded.

“Why?” She asked.

“He was old,” I said. “He had a great life. His songs will last forever.”

She sang a little more.

“I remember it all,” she said. “Why did he die? He was handsome.”

I knew those tears were for my Dad who loved Frank. I knew she heard his voice as Frank sang. That’s why she had tears.

It was beautiful to see, but it hurt my heart.

And then I drove through town, thinking of all those who aren’t here anymore.

Faces of friends, relatives, and acquaintances.

Life is short.

Even in its longest days.

New York Knickerbockers

noreply@blogger.com (Cliff Fazzolari) — Sat, 06 Jun 2026 09:45:00 +0000

My boys are amazed at my knowledge when it comes to the NBA.

I mentioned that the Knicks won championships that I remembered in 1969 and 1973.

I wasn’t rooting for them because they beat the Lakers in both instances and Wilt Chamberlain and Jerry West were my two favorite players.

It’s pretty obscene that I can recall sitting in front of the television and crying in the ‘69 Finals as the Knicks won game 7 - 113-99.

I was just five years old when that game was played. It was also the Willis Reed game.

Reed was hurt earlier in the season and could barely walk, but he opened Game 7, and scored 8 points before leaving.

I’m rooting for the Knicks these days, mostly because they have a lot of Villanova players on their team, and Sam made us watch every single ‘Nova game.

We knew how great Brunson could be.

I don’t watch much of the games, but I’ll catch highlights so that I can chat about it with the boys.

They’re also rooting for the Knicks, who haven’t won a title since ‘73.

After Wilt retired, I had more respect for those Knicks teams.

Clyde Frazier, Earl Monroe, Bill Bradley, Reed, Jerry Lucas, Dave DeBuschere.

They may have been the smartest team ever.

Lucas and Bradley were tagged as geniuses back in the day, and Bradley was a long-time senator when he retired.

I read DeBuschere’s autobiography as a kid. I recall that he wrote it in journal format, and I know I wore that book out.

I wish I still had my copy.

So, go Knicks.

I hope the orange turd doesn’t show up at the Garden and give them the kiss of death.

Just Resting My Eyes

noreply@blogger.com (Cliff Fazzolari) — Fri, 05 Jun 2026 11:20:27 +0000

Grandpa Clifford used to doze off now and again after dinner.

“I’m resting my eyes,” was his go-to-answer.

Quick question:

Did you ever see ‘Sleepy Joe’ fall asleep while there are 12 cabinet members around?

Pedo pig falls asleep.

As his suck ups tell him how amazingly energetic he is.

The White House claims he was ‘resting his eyes’.

And I don’t want to make a comparison with my Grandpa Clifford because he was a fine upstanding man who worked hard every day of his life.

And I don’t want to make it about Pedo Pig either.

He bores me.

This is about me catching a couple of winks now and again about halfway through a show and then denying it.

“You were sleeping,” Kathy will mention.

And I don’t know why we get defensive there.

“No, I wasn’t!”

“You were snoring!”

Ah well.

We all age.

Even pedophile pigs need their rest.

Painting Sucks

noreply@blogger.com (Cliff Fazzolari) — Thu, 04 Jun 2026 09:43:00 +0000

I’m not really allowed to do a lot of painting around here.

I did paint the interior of our house a few years back, and it was a horrendous experience.

I vowed that I’d never do a big paint job again.

But we have concrete outside that was looking worn, and I remembered doing that job in a half a Saturday.

I may have misremembered.

And how much of a mess could I make of it. It’s on the ground. I could kick the paint can over and cover a lot of it.

My idea was to do a couple of steps a day each night after work.

Which is difficult for me because I like to finish a task once I start it.

Yesterday was day three of a the week-long experience, and I’m tired of it.

Kneeling and bending over aren’t quite as much fun these days.

My back hurts.

My knees hurt.

I need more paint.

“It looks good,” I said….

…because no one else said it.

A couple more days.

Painting sucks.

Found Money

noreply@blogger.com (Cliff Fazzolari) — Wed, 03 Jun 2026 09:44:00 +0000

I had a stop in the city on Elmwood Avenue, which is a busy stretch of road with a lot of traffic, plenty of pedestrians, and people riding bikes.

I got out of my car, and went around it to feed the meter, and I spotted money on the ground.

When finding money it’s usually a five-dollar bill or something less.

A couple of ones.

On a great day, a ten spot.

I haven’t found money in a long time…

…and this time, I kind of gasped because it was a hundy.

And it wasn’t alone.

There were two one-hundred-dollar bills and two twenties.

$240 is a pretty great score.

And a lot of money to the poor bastard who lost it.

I looked around.

There wasn’t anyone within shouting distance.

I didn’t see anyone searching the street for their lost cash.

I wasn’t going to go up to random people and ask them if they lost anything lately, and the law is pretty clear on this issue:

Finders keepers

Losers weepers.

Then I did something supremely stupid:

I told Kathy.

She won’t rest until she has every nickel of my found money.

June the 2!

noreply@blogger.com (Cliff Fazzolari) — Tue, 02 Jun 2026 12:00:15 +0000

It’s a great day today because it makes me think of Dad and Uncle Jim and my siblings.

A day that Italian Americans have chosen to, uh, I don’t even know!

Sort of the day when everything comes due.

June the 2.

It’s funny, but yesterday I was in the Dollar General getting dog bones because every day is an Ollie day, and a middle-aged black guy approached singing ‘Soul Man’.

We turned that into a discussion about John Belushi and how great that song was on SNL.

“Are you Italian heritage?” The man blurted out.

I laughed because he caught me off-guard.

“I can tell. It’s around your eyes, and the way you talk.”

I laughed again.

“I grew up around all the Italian families in Niagara Falls,” he said.

He mentioned a few names.

“You look Italian,” he added.

We fist-bumped and I said, “Have a great day.”

He responded with:

“Happy June the 2”.

Classic.

A Perfect Day

noreply@blogger.com (Cliff Fazzolari) — Mon, 01 Jun 2026 10:13:00 +0000

The weather was exactly perfect.

70 degrees and carts were allowed on the fairway.

We had our usual 4-some together for the first time all year, and the driver troubles are all sorted out.

(I don’t want to discuss the putter - it’s too soon).

But I enjoyed every swing.

Returned home and made a huge turkey with all the sides, and headed out to play ball with Ollie, and noticed that a fawn settled in behind the fence and watched.

It was remarkable.

The fawn was at full attention, as Ollie ran on by retrieving every toss.

I walked closer, and the fawn just looked at me.

I was less than 10’ away.

Finally, the fawn stood up, and that’s when Ollie noticed him, and chased the fawn down rhe fence line.

Very cool.

By 6:00, I was worn out.

Put some ice on my back and watched some mindless television.

Brilliant sunshine.

Good food.

The boys were here to see the Yankees score 13 runs in one inning.

And it dawned on me.

That’s all Americans want.

We don’t need a ballroom/bunker.

Or fights on the White House lawn.

Or wars half a world away.

Just let us enjoy our lives.

That’s all we need.

Happy Anniversary!

noreply@blogger.com (Cliff Fazzolari) — Sun, 31 May 2026 08:38:00 +0000

Twenty-nine years ago, we were married in left field at the town park in North Collins.

I was just 32 years old.

And of course:

“No one knows which way loves wheel turns.

Will we hit it rich, or crash and burn?”

We’ve done all right, and today we celebrate.

I’m making a turkey because I know it’s Kathy’s favorite meal. I’ll make the stuffing too, because that’s what I like.

The wedding was a great time.

Beer and music and pouring rain, with everyone I ever met showing up to wish us well,

We talked a little bit about the wedding, but we also kicked around all the stuff we have had to battle through since.

Being married for 29 years is no small feat.

There are good days, great days and days where the best thing you can do is retreat to separate corners.

I’d say we are pretty safe on making it out to the end, but I know a guy who divorced his wife after 52 years of marriage.

Seriously.

When I asked him about it he said:

“I should’ve left her 40 years ago.”

Then, five years after their divorce, I checked in.

He told me that he was at the doctor’s office waiting for his ex-wife to get through her appointment.

“You take her to the doctor?” I asked.

“Well, yeah. We’ve been together a long time.”

Marriage.

It’s a test. Like the SAT.

We have a conversation every five years.

“Are you opting in for five more?” I ask.

We both opted in at 25.

This is the last year of our five year ‘contract’.

Might as well keep on going, right?

Happy Anniversary to my beautiful wife.

Caught A Glimpse

noreply@blogger.com (Cliff Fazzolari) — Sat, 30 May 2026 09:26:00 +0000

Kathy had to spend a few hours in the hospital for a medical procedure, and I spent a little while in the waiting area, scrolling through my phone.

The waiting room was packed, and none of us were waiting to be seen. We were just waiting for an update.

I looked around the room, and saw a bit of grey hair. I thought about how life goes from here on out.

Hospital waiting areas aren’t anyone’s favorite place, and I tried to be patient.

I’m not a patient man.

Thankfully I’ve been healthy because I have little interest in being in a bed.

I passed a room and saw a man about my age laying there watching ‘The Price is Right’.

He looked absolutely miserable.

And our healthcare system is an abomination.

I thought about a well-known actor who recently passed away after an illness (I’m too lazy to look up his name), but I remember reading that his family needed a go-fund me to pay for his medical expenses.

This is someone who likely made millions while on television and in the movies.

Died penniless.

That thought didn’t bring me much comfort.

Our visit was quick and all good.

The place was clean, the healthcare professionals were courteous and friendly.

And yet, I mentioned that I couldn’t imagine working in that field.

The practitioner heard me mention it and he told us a few war stories about his worst days.

Which depressed the hell out of me.

I headed to a job site and coincidentally one of the guys mentioned that his mother-in-law was hit by a car and suffered a broken femur, a shattered ankle, and a half dozen fractured ribs.

Poor lady is 77 years old.

“Makes me think I want them to yank the curtain quick,” the guy said.

“Yeah, caught a glimpse,” I said. “I don’t wanna’ hang around hospitals for too long. Sorry about your mother in law.”

“Not as sorry as me,” he said. “Her insurance is giving her shit about rehabbing at a nursing home. She’s coming to live with us.”

“You poor bastard.”

He laughed.

“A mother-in-law who barely ever liked me, hanging around my house in incredible pain. What could possibly go wrong?”

A True American

noreply@blogger.com (Cliff Fazzolari) — Fri, 29 May 2026 10:04:00 +0000

Springsteen and the E-Street Band played Washington D.C. on Wednesday night, and as he’s done in cities all across the nation, Bruce addressed what’s going on with a very thoughtful presentation of the facts of the matter.

They’re receiving death threats.

There are just a couple of times when Bruce stops playing music and breaks down the rights we’ve lost as the members of the current administration enrich themselves as the rest of us suffer.

Now, I’ve been a Springsteen fan since 1975.

I was 10.

I was aware of Bruce’s political leanings by 1981 or so. He was vocal about how scared he was for the future of the country when Reagan was elected.

Reagan later tried to poach ‘Born in the USA’ for his political campaign.

Bruce stopped it.

When he released the video for ‘Born to Run’ he ended it with the statement:

“No one wins unless everyone wins.”

And people have used his words to say he’s a communist who hates the country.

Which is the exact opposite of the truth.

Springsteen wrote a record about immigrants being killed trying to get here, or being targeted once they arrived.

“The Ghost of Tom Joad” is one of the most intelligent attempts to humanize people who are looked at as subhuman.

What strikes me about the criticism that Springsteen and the band get is that their viewpoint is the exact viewpoint that the founding fathers had when coming up with the idea of the country.

“All men are created equal.”

“Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.”

“Give us your tired…”

The foundation of this country.

We lost our way.

And towards the end of his summation Bruce speaks of things that we can’t live without.

Honesty, compassion, humility, integrity.

Those things have been replaced by nastiness, cruelty and lie after lie after lie.

The show ended with Bruce asking the crowd to voice their protest loud enough for them to be heard at the White House, a little more than 3 miles away.

I hope they heard them.

A true American.

Taking a righteous stand.

The Meteor ☄️

noreply@blogger.com (Cliff Fazzolari) — Thu, 28 May 2026 09:18:00 +0000

Something woke me up at 5:15.

Just a boom.

Miller was beside me and he was one pissed off cat, but he’s always kinda’ pissed about something.

I didn’t think much of it, and got another half hour of sleep.

Forgot all about it, but social media was all over it.

A meteor. ☄️

Of course, there were a lot of scientists out there who immediately began telling us all they know about it.

God was sending us a message about our bad behavior, according to one guy.

Another guy was about to jump in his car and scoop up the meteor because finding it would make him an instant millionaire.

I made a mental note to read about it, and ignore the ignorant comments, but I do wonder if that guy is riding around in his pickup truck searching the landscape for evidence of a meteor strike.

I did think about how helpless we are if meteors do start raining down on a regular basis.

The boom was loud.

Pissed off Miller.

What else can happen, right?

Maybe the next one will land in DC during the UFC fight on the White House lawn…

…because that truly has to be making God mad.

Yard Work

noreply@blogger.com (Cliff Fazzolari) — Wed, 27 May 2026 09:28:00 +0000

The summer season brings work to the forefront.

We’ve had a lawn problem in the backyard because Ollie runs a path.

I didn’t think it was so hard to grow grass, but evidently it’s not quite as easy as it looks on the bag.

“Guaranteed to grow anywhere! Sun or shade!”

Uh, not so far.

And I started thinking about getting the mulch.

I didn’t bother over the weekend because of the rain, but I stopped and picked up supplies on my way back from work yesterday.

I was spreading some of it when Sam stopped by the back yard.

“That looks like fun,” he said.

“Wanna’ help?” I asked.

He laughed.

Didn’t even answer, just laughed.

“It’s gonna’ be under snow in 3 months,” he said.

Which, sadly, is kinda’ true.

(He did carry a few bags around, and he usually ‘grinds’ his way through the lawn, now and again).

Yet, it’s been a solid twenty-five years of me trying to make the yard look all right for the summer months.

Now that everything is in place the months long battle against every freaking weed I can see begins.

Memorial Day Weekend Memories

noreply@blogger.com (Cliff Fazzolari) — Tue, 26 May 2026 09:30:00 +0000

We didn’t get much of a break weather-wise over the three-day weekend.

It sucked because going into the weekend, I thought about some of my Memorial Day memories.

Growing up, Memorial Day weekend was the weekend where we were dragged from our beds on Saturday morning to plant the garden.

We had a big garden, and we were rudely awakened by my dad who wasn’t messing around.

Five minutes after we opened our eyes, we were in the dirt.

Tomatoes, peppers, cukes, eggplant…

…and on and on.

Of course, there was plenty of banter.

Sometimes there were fights.

There were a lot of laughs.

And by noon, we were usually free.

We’d swim, and play hoops.

When we got older, we introduced beer to the event.

The Yankee game was on in the garage.

And then the grill got going.

My father was an excellent cook, and his chicken and ribs were standard fare.

I have no idea how much money he spent on food, but there was always plenty.

The neighbors would stop by and by the time we sat down for dinner there were usually a dozen people there.

More laughs, more hoops, the sun shining, beer, fights…

…and then we’d build a fire in the back and hang out back there.

I know I sound like an old dude when I talk about the fact that we needed to have friends over or go to their house to connect.

No phones.

No staring at a screen.

Sitting outside with a fire crackling…

…just talking and breaking balls.

Making a game out of everything.

The sun always seemed to be shining. I was badly sunburned one year (I’ve only been sunburned twice in my life).

We’d eat another time or two…

…and we would repeat that sort of day over the next couple of days.

So, this past weekend?

Rain destroyed everything on Saturday, and I did what I could, I made ribs.

They were great.

I got the round of golf in on Sunday (the swing is back, baby) and then it rained some more.

Plenty of screen time.

A few shows.

Made too much food for just three people.

Memorial Day is also the day when we think of those who died in our never-ending wars.

That’s one thing that’s never changed…

…I still have the thought that we needed to thank those people, for sure, but I also said a prayer, in the hope that we can stop sending kids off to die.

There needs to be another way.

Hope you had a great weekend.

Daydreaming

noreply@blogger.com (Cliff Fazzolari) — Mon, 25 May 2026 09:04:00 +0000

Back when I was a kid I used to daydream a little about a scenario where I would bravely stand up and save lives.

Perhaps it was the storyteller in me, but I’d invent elaborate schemes where I’d escape by the skin of my teeth.

A natural thing for a child to do, and inventing drama and then being the hero doesn’t do much for you as you try and navigate being an adult.

Unless you’re part of the White House security team.

There have been five shootings at the White House in the last ten years.

There weren’t any during the years 2021-2024.

When there was a real President living there.

Assassination attempts?

Seems like we have one a month now.

Quickly followed by social media posts asking for a billion dollars for a ballroom and a bunker.

Back in 1963, Kennedy was assassinated.

In the 80’s Reagan was shot.

We know more about who was responsible than we know about the thing that went on at the correspondents dinner.

That one flopped so badly that it was out of the news in a single day.

Wrestling is fake, but people still watch the matches.

When these news alerts come flashing, a large percentage of the country is shrugging.

Just another setup to distract from whatever is on the verge of sinking pedo 🐷.

Either that or this is the absolute worst security team ever assembled.

From Kirk to the fake attempt at the golf course to the absurd one in Pennsylvania that killed innocent people to the garbage this weekend.

Whatever.

By the end of the week we’ll forget it even happened, and by this time next week there will be 3 new stupid things to distract us from the fact that they’re robbing the place blind.

So Fragile

noreply@blogger.com (Cliff Fazzolari) — Sun, 24 May 2026 10:14:00 +0000

Kyle Busch passed away this week at just 41 years old. He was a highly decorated NASCAR driver, and his death shocked the sports world.

A sudden death in such a manner is horrible. Turns out Busch had pneumonia, and missed a few chances to save his own life. He developed sepsis, and it killed him quickly.

Tragic.

And news like this shakes things up, mentally.

He was doing interviews, and racing just a couple of days before.

One minute you’re here.

The old saying, “Be where your feet are,” is something that I’ve reminded myself about.

I’m throwing the ball for Ollie - and I get caught up in his enthusiasm (he’s at 23,600 catches for 2026).

If I’m walking on a job site, I’ll take it all in, knowing that I’m fortunate to be able to climb ladders and scaffolds.

We talked about Busch’s death here as I marveled at how quickly it happened.

“That’s why it’s important not to ignore the warning signs,” Kathy said. “If you get sick, you have to rest.”

Of course, men are well known for just barreling through and particularly in the construction industry.

“Oh, you’re sick??? Poor baby,” is a lot of what you hear from coworkers.

“But you never get sick,” Kathy said.

“Don’t jinx me,” I said.

But it is true.

I can go years without even a cold, and even if I get stuffed up, it doesn’t last long.

I can’t imagine that I’d try to barrel through pneumonia, but life is weird and we get lost in what we’re doing.

Just 41 years old, with a wife and children.

All the success.

All the awards.

An empire of dirt.

And what’s even worse about a celebrity death was reading the callous comments.

“Never liked him as a driver,” was a pretty common sentiment.

A pretty lousy one too.

Damn,

Life is fragile.

Enjoy everything.

Steven Colbert

noreply@blogger.com (Cliff Fazzolari) — Sat, 23 May 2026 10:08:00 +0000

The end of the week brought the end of Steven Colbert as a late night host because CBS was pressured by the obese, orange pedophile, over jokes Colbert told about him.

That’s scary stuff.

Another freedom lost for all those who are happy to see Colbert go.

I haven’t watched late night shows in years, but there are always clips on line, and I thought Colbert was funny enough.

Evidently, Colbert got under that bright orange, thin skin, but let’s think about the late night hosts who like that mess.

Kimmel despises him.

Letterman can’t stand him.

Jon Stewart is not a fan.

The people behind Saturday Night Live have made fun of him for a solid decade.

Every president has taken the heat from the late night comedians.

Chevy Chase pretended to fall down every week as he played Gerald Ford.

And no one was ever fired for poking fun at anyone…

…until now.

We are being told:

“We are the hottest country in the world right now,” by the slob and his people.

The truth is, the economy is in shambles by every possible measure.

Fox News has spent years brainwashing people into a cult.

If every media outlet follows suit we will be fed lies non-stop.

We know that one guy lies every time he opens his mouth. We know his press secretary doubles down on those lies.

Comedians should never bend to it.

He’s tried to get Kimmel fired and has thrown all he has against SNL.

Colbert will surface again.

The fact that he was fired has more to do with what we lost than what he has lost.

Hopefully, those who have a voice will continue to speak truth to power because we are giving up rights here….

…in our failing democracy.

Might Be Break Time

noreply@blogger.com (Cliff Fazzolari) — Fri, 22 May 2026 09:29:00 +0000

Back in 1991 I worked with the best boss I ever had. We were in Baltimore on a fast-paced job that was like a little war each day.

We dealt with ironworkers, boilermakers, operators, engineers. It was a frenzy every day, and was a hell of a lot of fun.

In the middle of all that - after a long stretch of 60 hour weeks, my boss was heading to vacation.

That day, all hell hit the fan, and I drive to BWI to get him to sign some papers just minutes before his flight was set to leave.

I found him in the bar where he was having a beer or ten. I immediately started telling him about the problems of the day, and he couldn’t have possibly cared less.

This was a guy who busted his ass and handled every detail.

Now he was completely out of touch.

“I’m on vacation,” he said. “I don’t give a flying….

I just stood there.

“You gotta know when to take a break,” he said. “I’m on break.”

I might need one now.

I didn’t know it was memorial day weekend!

Kathy was talking about the weather and the best day for golf.

“Monday might be the best day.”

“I work on Monday.”

She just looked at me.

Yep.

Need it.

Still Not Summer

noreply@blogger.com (Cliff Fazzolari) — Thu, 21 May 2026 09:04:00 +0000

We had an 85 degree day.

Two days later we were back in the 40’s for a little while.

Shit load of rain coming this weekend, and there was a lot of grey on Wednesday.

I want to be able to ride to my ball soon…

…it’s been cart path only so far.

And man, I can’t watch the news anymore.

They’re talking about the 2028 election and they’re talking about blowing off the constitution again.

There aren’t any rules anymore.

Remember the ‘assassination’ attempt?

That was so fake that they stopped reporting on it.

And how do we get there from a blog that started out talking about the weather?

That’s how it feels right now.

We are trying to get through our lives and think about other things and the crap just keeps coming at us.

We need the summer.

“That’s peanuts,” the pedo pig said when he was asked about the high gas prices. “I don’t even think about that.”

That’s quite the strategy on America First.

“Loyalty over law,” was another unbelievable statement.

In other words, the law doesn’t matter anymore if the cult sticks with the cult leader.

We’re in serious trouble and I don’t know about you, but I’d rather face this shit with the sun shining, and being able to drive straight to where I hit my ball.

Explain it to Me

noreply@blogger.com (Cliff Fazzolari) — Wed, 20 May 2026 10:08:00 +0000

Now, we are going to use $1.7 billion of taxpayer money to compensate the people who stormed the Capitol and smeared shit on the walls.

And it was also announced that Pedo Pig’s taxes will never be audited.

Can someone please explain why we are allowing this disgusting slob to break every law?

And the ballroom.

$100 billion dollars for a ballroom that Americans don’t want.

“It’s my gift to the country,” he said.

We’re paying for it!

We need affordability.

Lower gas prices.

Healthcare.

Housing that is affordable.

Instead, they’re compensating terrorists, robbing the IRS and building a freaking ball room.

72% of the country hates him and wants him gone.

Fine.

Perhaps we have to wait for an election but in the meantime…

…he transfers all of our tax money into his own pocket and the media simply reports on it.,.

…nothing to be done!

I have a feeling that no one will explain it to me because there is no reasonable explanation other than…

…we are absolutely done as a Democracy.

So freaking disgusted.

This is bullshit.

Taco Tuesday

noreply@blogger.com (Cliff Fazzolari) — Tue, 19 May 2026 10:23:00 +0000

Have we all been following the Iran war?

The Strait remains closed.

Bombs are not being dropped, despite the fact that we were led to believe that Iran was going to be blown off the map.

And that’s because Trump Always Chickens Out.

Taco’s for everyone!

Here’s the deal:

He has no way out of it.

The war began because supposedly the nuclear program posed an imminent danger to every single American…

… just six months after it was announced that he had totally obliterated Iran’s chance to have a nuclear weapon.

(He was truly trying to wipe the Epstein story off the news).

So…

…a massive lie was told.

Also, not to mention that there was an Iran Nuclear agreement that worked perfectly, but it was orchestrated by Obama.

Anyway.

If you have followed along, it goes like this:

Monday:

We are going to end a civilization. I’m not kidding this time.

Tuesday:

Tick-tock losers. You have no boats or planes or leaders left.

Wednesday:

Iran is making me mad. They bombed us and sent me a hate letter. We are going to wipe them off the map.

Thursday:

We are getting along very well with Iran right now. They will never have a nuke and they agreed to it!

Friday:

I’m putting the bombing of Iran on hold. We almost have a deal.

Monday:

We are going to end a civilization. I’m not kidding this time.

And all the while, we pay $5 a gallon, groceries are outrageous, and every day we hear that he has made another billion off of insider trading…

…as he waits for his ballroom (which we are paying for) and a bunker.

I’ve had enough.

Drag him out by his wig, wipe the makeup off his face, and throw the pedo in a cage.

Game 7’s

noreply@blogger.com (Cliff Fazzolari) — Mon, 18 May 2026 14:07:24 +0000

The Sabres have a Game 7 tonight.

I was surprised to read that they’ve only had one in their history - which they won - about 20 years ago.

Got me thinking of Game 7’s.

First one I remember was the Knicks over my Lakers team with Wilt and West in 1970.

The Knicks won 113-99.

I remember it because I cried!

I also recall Yankees over Red Sux in 2003 in the Aaron Boone game.

Yankees came back to beat Pedro in that one.

Of course, there were crushing game 7’s in 2001 and 2004 that won’t be mentioned.

It’s a sick feeling, really.

I imagine I’ll feel tense.

Super Bowl’s are Game 7’s in and of themselves and Buffalo hasn’t had much luck there.

I have a good feeling going into this Game 7.

This team doesn’t quit.

But, ‘anything can happen in a game 7’ is a cliche for a reason.

Come on Sabres.

I don’t want to cry again.